


Super Cop!

by starlightwatch



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/F, Game: Resident Evil 3 Nemesis, Game: Resident Evil 3 Remake (2020), Hero trope, Jill Valentine / You, Jill Valentine x You, Nemesis being a creepy bitch, Resident Evil - Freeform, Resident Evil / You, Resident Evil x you, some flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28425369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwatch/pseuds/starlightwatch
Summary: what a surprise, you find yourself in the middle of the raccoon city incident. luckily, you meet a super cop. ;)
Relationships: Jill Valentine & Reader, Jill Valentine / Reader, Jill Valentine x Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Super Cop!

Your night had gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours. First you’d gotten stuck on the bus home, kept up in a traffic jam due to some sort of pile up on the street. About half an hour into that a man who’d been awfully strange starting coughing, sputtering blood over passengers across from him. That had been unamusing, you’d cringe in disgust at the hacks of ruby blood from down the bus. Twenty minutes later, the same people began to show symptoms similar to his. The first one–his state had drastically taken a turn–lost any amount of sense he had left when someone told him he needed to sit in the back of the bus if he was so ill and contagious. 

Taking a chunk out of their arm was not something you could consider a reasonable reaction to being asked to move seats. Not by a long shot. Panic had broken out on the bus quickly, passengers shoving past you to get to the exit at the front. You’d been shoved against the wall of the bus, swearing at the frantic passersby as they flocked to the door like ants at a picnic. 

A look outside the bus revealed the streets to be in a similar state, you wondered if this caused the traffic jam. Fear prickled over your skin, shivering down your spine at the sight of sickly citizens shoving healthy–not so healthy anymore–citizens to the sidewalk and diving into their throats. 

You’d very quickly adapted to the situation, you had to for the sake of your survival–that was taken into consideration from the time you saw a nice woman tackle an officer down and claw at his face. You didn’t know what the hell was going on in this city but you did know one thing: you needed to get somewhere safe and survive in the process. 

Taking the police officer’s gun hardly left any guilt on your conscience, you needed it much more than he did at the moment. He needed some serious medical attention that he would not be getting. 

Sirens screeched down the roads for the first few hours, hellish circumstances befalling the area you carefully navigated through. You hadn’t been forced to take any of the (un)dead people–zombies are the appropriate term but you still hadn’t let yourself accept that, yet–but it would only be a matter of time, you know that. It’s bound to happen. You just haven’t had the time to mentally prepare yourself to take someone’s life–even if they were dead, or infected at least–away from them. 

That’s not something you casually accept, right? 

Putting down the first zombie was actually much easier than you thought it would be; so much easier that it almost scared you with how easily you pulled the trigger. The thing had cornered you in an alleyway, shuffling towards you on clumsy, wobbling legs with outstretched arms and an open mouth. You, acting on pure instinct, put two shots in her face with no second guesses. 

It was only when you were alone in the old donut shop that it finally hit you that you’d put down not one, not two, but several infected people. They had lives before this, people they cared about, and you took that away. But it was for survival, it had to be for survival, right? You’d seen other infected citizens tearing apart ex neighbors, friends, strangers. Gooey blood spurting from wounds and stringy intestines littering the streets as you ran for your life. 

It had to be enough of an excuse for now. You could feel guilty later. 

You check the clip of your–might as well be yours, the cop won’t be taking it back–pistol and curse under your breath. “Damnit,” you sigh in frustration, running a hand over your forehead. It’s sticky from the sweat formed from running across town, your fingers tremble much like the rest of you. This was insane, it couldn’t be real. Surely this was some sort of realistic dream, right? But it’s not, deep inside you know it’s not. It’s too real, the cold hands of death touching your skin and the sound of gunfire were much too real to be a dream. 

You take a moment to observe Moon’s Donut Shop, you’d been here several times before with friends on the weekend. That made your mind tick with questions: were they alright, did anyone you know get infected with whatever this was and so on. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing your nerves down. It wouldn’t do you or anyone else any good if you succumbed to your worries. 

You managed to find a case of half empty handgun ammo on one of the tables–it puzzled you that someone left it–and a bottle of black gunpowder that you tuck away in your pocket for safe keeping. Who knows when you might need it, right? Maybe you could make some sort of ammunition if you found another bottle. 

With an exhale of breath, you cross to the door and push it open lightly. Three zombies shuffle around the stairway as if they’d been lurking after something, someone, in the last few minutes. On the stairway above them is something even more monstrous than the zombies. It’s huge, towering over any creature you’ve ever seen, dressed in black layers of clothing. It’s face reminds you of a comic book hero, just fleshier and much more horrifying. Plus, you doubt this creature will have witty comments to make. 

You carefully slip out, it’s already noticed you anyway, and observe your options. You can make a break for the catwalk nearby or try to run around the freakishly large being. It doesn’t seem too interested in you but that doesn’t stop it from turning on a heel to stomp in your direction. 

You curse, emptying your clip into it’s upper neck area but it does nothing. The fucker keeps coming as if you’d only given him a light tap on the wrist. 

From behind you, the door to the donut shop slams open and you feel a hand tugging you back with force. A woman clad in a purple tank top steps in front of you, pulling the piece on a hand grenade and tossing it in the direction of the monstrous being.

He pauses in his stride, collapsing to his knees with his head looking towards the pavement. The woman grabs your wrist tightly, giving it a tug. 

You follow with little hesitation, she saved your ass from that big guy after all. She runs ahead of you by a little distance, briefly gazing over her shoulder to look back at you. “Come on, I’m taking you somewhere safe!” She tells you, just barely stepping to the side in time to miss a pair of arms from a zombie reaching towards her. 

You high tail it up the stairs behind her, staying as close as physically possible to her without being–literally–glued to her backside. 

She pauses next to a small gate, tugging the door open for you to follow her through. “Thanks,” you murmur, quietly panting for air through parted lips. “What the fuck is going on?” 

She shakes her head, leading you around the corner until you see a small grocery store. Beside it is a pull down door with bright yellow spray paint. She stops next to it, waiting for you to duck underneath first. “It’s a long story, are you–watch out!” 

You turn to see what she’s warning you about, jumping away from a straggling zombie. It catches hold of your hair, tugging you back with a graveled groan. You yelp, out of pain or fear, and struggle to free yourself. The woman is quick to retrieve a knife and drive it into the zombie’s temples, tugging you away from it in the process. 

“Are you okay?” She repeats, flashing you a nervous grin. Her eyes hold wary concern, eyeing you from head to toe for any signs of wounds.

You nod, letting your hands rest on your knees for a momentary break before hurrying inside the shelter; she follows, pulling the door shut behind you. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for saving my ass there.” You chuckle sarcastically, it earns a brief chuckle from the woman in response. 

“I’m Jill,” she tells you, wiping away dirt from her cheek with the back of her hand. She walks to the side of the room, dropping something in a dark lock box before gesturing to you to walk with her. You’re in the subway, you can tell that much. 

You nod, falling into a settled stride beside her. She clutches her handgun confidently, clearly knowing her way around it. You nod, glancing over to look at her. “Y/N.” 

She flashes you half of a smile, glad to see another survivor alive and well. “There’s some Umbrella guys down here, clearing a way out of the city with the subway cars. You can get on, get out of here.” Her words sound vague at the mention of Umbrella, tense even. 

You nod, happy to hear there’s an escape plan in order and some people looking after it. “If it’s alright with you, I’ll stick with you until then.” Something about the woman makes your nerves ease, she seems brave. Like she could take on this whole city and still come out alive. If you’re stuck here for some time, you’re sticking with her. At least you know she’ll look out for you. 

To your surprise she nods, jogging down a set of crumbling stairs. “Alright, we’ll talk about that arrangement.” Her voice comes out with underlying amusement, clearly having no intention of endangering you with her luck of the night. 

Little did she know, you’d prove to be good help and have a delightful smile that she can’t get out of her head.

**Author's Note:**

> y’all i’m TIRED. just want claire redfield content again, my whole heart. my BABY. 😤 anyway, enjoy jill content since capcom refuses to give us any.


End file.
